


The Small Tale of Tiny Sam

by TammyRenH



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Dean POV, Gen, Oops I accidentally shrunk my brother, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TammyRenH/pseuds/TammyRenH
Summary: Sam’s working too hard and it’s Dean duty to distract him. An accident in the library that was not (totally) Dean’s fault, the search for the remedy for Sam’s little problem and a hunt for a smoke monster might all add up to a slightly bigger distraction then Dean was planning on.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40
Collections: Supernatural Summergen 2020





	The Small Tale of Tiny Sam

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SummerGen and beta’d by the sweet Jenld71

Jody looked from Sam to Dean and back to Sam again. “What the hell did you do Dean?”

Dean huffed as he walked inside. “What makes you think this was my fault?”

“Women’s intuition?” Jody asked, shutting, and locking her front door. “Experience? The expression on Sam’s face? Pick one or three.”

Dean carefully placed Sam on the couch. Sam indeed was looking up at him with one of his patent bitch faces. 

Dean fidgeted. Jody folded her arms across her chest. Sam did the same, but there was a slight tick up at the corner of his mouth which indicated that Sam was having a lot of fun watching Dean’s discomfort. Such a brat, but also, fair.

“Don’t we have a monster to gank?” Dean asked, which was definitely not a ploy to stall for time because they really did come here about a monster.

“Yes,” Jody replied. “But I think we have enough time for you to explain what the hell you did to your brother.”

Dean sighed, wished for a beer but settled for parking his ass on the arm of the couch and began…

**Several hours earlier**

Days of doing nothing but whatever the hell you want to do sounds great in theory. But in practice, it gets real old real fast. 

It sometimes frightened Dean a little (a lot) about how much his identity was wrapped around being needed.

Death had picked up Cas and Jack for a super-secret mission that mere mortals like Dean and Sam were not invited to, which, whatever. Sooner or later they would get in some kind of trouble and he and Sam would have to save them, again. In the meantime, their search for a way to handle the Chuck situation was on pause while the Angel Squad were out doing their thing. Researching had gotten them absolutely fucking nowhere and if Dean had to read another dusty book written by a prick with too much ego and too little reason for the ego, he was going to be forced to set fire to the library. Even Sam had given up on the research and had begun busying himself with other projects that he made crystal clear he did not need Dean’s help with or want Dean “hovering” over him as he worked. Dean didn’t hover. He was just at loose ends that’s all. Dean had retreated to their man cave with a cooler full of beer and every unhealthy snack he could find and settled into one of the big damn comfy chairs.

It had been two days now of nothing from Billie, Cas or Jack, Sam moving from project to project, and Dean left to his own devices which mainly meant mindless eating as he randomly picked Netflix shows to devour.

Today his geek of a brother was busy cataloging the Men of Letter’s library because of geekiness, and they were both still pretending to be too busy to worry about Cas or Jack. Still, Dean had an itch watching mindless reality shows wasn’t able to scratch and after the eighth time Netflix had asked if he was still watching _The Chefs’ Line_ , Dean got up from his big comfy chair (ignoring the popping of his knees cause he isn’t old, seasoned maybe, but nowhere near old) and went off in search of Sam to make sure the kid didn’t need anything.

Sam was sitting just where he had left him hours before, a half-eaten salad by his side, and books scattered everywhere. Dean moved a few of them so he could sit on the edge of the table.

“Put those back where you found them,” Sam said, not even looking up from his laptop. “I have a system.”

Dean haphazardly stacked the books on the opposite end of the table, underneath three other books. He was rewarded by Sam’s bitch-drenched tone as he looked up from his research. “Is there something you wanted?”

“I wanted to see if you were hungry. I could call for Chinese,” Dean replied, looking pointedly at Sam’s barely eaten lunch.

“I ate something earlier, I’m fine,” Sam replied and went right back to whatever he was doing.

Dean sat there a while longer. Sam didn’t even try to hide his exasperation.“What?”

“If you don’t want Chinese, I could order a pizza. Extra pineapples, just the way you like it.”

Sam gave a long-suffering sigh. “If you are hungry, order something.”

His brother was hunched over his laptop, eyes never leaving the screen. Dean frowned at the sight. He needed to relax a little, breathe and also to eat something. Sam was a big guy; half a salad was not going to cut it. Maybe Dean could find something to divert his attention, maybe get him out of the bunker for a while. 

“We could go to a bar,” Dean offered. “Get some beers, shoot some pool, stretch our legs.”

Sam finally looked up from the laptop. “If you are bored –”

“I’m not bored,” Dean cut in, bristling at Sam acting like he was a child that needed entertaining. “I just think it would be good for you if you got out and had some fun. You remember fun right Sam? If not, I am sure one of these many books has a definition of it for you.”

“Believe it or not, this is my idea of fun,” Sam replied, going back to his laptop. “But going to a bar sounds like a good idea for you, knock yourself out.”

Dean did not tell Sam he didn’t want to go alone, because that was just too pathetic for words. Besides, he had been having fun with Netflix and everything, it was Sam that needed a break, he was just too stubborn to admit it.

As he came up with and discarded various plots to distract Sam, Dean wandered up and down the stacks of books, his eye landing on some boxes on top of one of the bookshelves. They looked untouched. There might be something useful in one of them, at least they were certainly more interesting than moldy books. He found the step ladder they kept in the room and used it to climb up to reach one of the boxes. He could just touch the box while he balanced precariously on the top step. Sam could reach it easily, but no way was he going to ask for Sam’s help to reach something.

“Leave those alone,” Sam said from his table. “I haven’t had a chance to catalogue their contents yet. There could be something dangerous in one of them.”

Dean scoffed. “Like they would have left something dangerous in a box out in the open. They were idiots, but not stupid.” Dean tried to scoot the box closer to the edge so that it could slide off into his hands. “Besides unlike them I actually know what I am doing, I’ve been dealing with this kind of thing since you were still in diapers.”

“Yeah, six-year-old you was a real vampire slayer,” Sam snarked, then got up, stretching his stupidly long body before heading over to Dean. “Seriously, leave it alone or let me get it. We don’t know what –”

The box tipped over, a while substance fell out of the box and landed all over Sam. “Shit, Sam, I’m sorry.”

Dean scrambled down from the step ladder and – Sam had disappeared. In the two seconds that Dean had taken to climb down, Sam had simply vanished along with the white substance, whatever the hell it was. 

“Sam!” Dean yelled, eyes frantically searching the library for his brother. “Sammy!”

Five minutes of fruitless searching and ruthlessly biting down panic resulted in no Sam. How could someone the size of a tree vanish into thin air? 

His hand went into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He was all ready to punch in a number, before he realized there was no one to call. Cas and Jack were unreachable. Rowena was down in Hell. And even if Donna and Jody weren’t so far away, what exactly could they do? Still, Sam was missing, and he was going to have to have some help tearing the bunker apart to find any sign of him, so he hit Jody’s number.

He felt something crawling over his shoe and shook his foot automatically before he even looked down to see what kind of creepy crawly thing it was – just to see something go flying and hit the bookcase with a funny squeaky sound. What the fuck kind of bug squeaked?

He bent down and then promptly fell on his ass. Sam. Tiny Sam, rubbing his head as his tiny little eyes looked up at Dean. The phone dropped out of his hand, forgotten, as he stared at the miniature replica of his brother, wearing the same blue and white checked shirt, the same battered brown boots, all scaled down to fit Sam’s new size. There was more squeaking, as mini Sam placed his hands on his hips and his mouth was moving. Hesitantly Dean reached out a hand and poked Sam in the stomach, which knocked Sam over. 

“Sorry, sorry, I just –” Dean couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say. He picked Sam up carefully and deposited him into his other hand. Sam was maybe three inches tall if that. He stood on Dean’s palm, his face pinched exactly into bitch-face-number-six and Dean was so relieved Sam had been found, and like relatively okay, and it was kind of funny the way he was so Sam but so small and Dean found his relieved grin turning into an amused chuckle and morphing into giggles that bordered way too closely to hysteria. He was closing his eyes, trying to get a grip when he felt something pinch the side of one of his fingers. “Hey, no biting allowed!” 

Sam stood back up and looked not contrite at all. From this close, Dean could make out Sam’s fast and furious words although really, he didn’t need to hear Sam to know that Sam was reaming him out for messing with something he shouldn’t. “Yeah, yeah I know. You can bitch at me when you are Sam-sized again, because really all that squeaking is just annoying.”

Sam jutted his lower jaw at Dean and only paused for a second before continuing. “I told you that stuff could be dangerous.”

“Yes, you look very dangerous now.” Dean stood up carefully, ignoring the way his knees popped again. “I bet there is an ant somewhere just shivering in fright.”

“I’m serious Dean. You are going to have to find a way to change me back.” 

“Okay.” Dean brought Sam back to the table, and put him on it. The books Sam had been reading looked gigantic next to him now. It really was kind of fun seeing Sam, who towered over everything, being the smallest thing on the table. As disasters went, this one was kind of fun. “There you go little brother, and I do mean little brother.” Dean laid his pinkie on Sam’s head and rubbed his hair, Sam’s tiny hands pushed at his finger ineffectively causing Dean’s grin to widen. He looked so cute with his little bitch face and his mussed-up hair, but their world was too dangerous of a place to leave Sam vulnerable in this way. “You are the witch, what do you want me to do?”

Sam held his hands up and shrugged in the universal language of ‘I have no idea.’ 

“Awesome.” Dean sighed. “Research it is. But first, I am making us a sandwich.”

He was in the kitchen for maybe ten minutes, piling ham and salami and pickles and onion on his sandwich, and then cutting another one into tiny pieces that resulted in all the meat squeezing out and pickle juice everywhere. It made him antsy to be away from Sam normally, but a small and helpless Sam ratcheted up the feeling, so he skipped the chips and even the beer and hurried back to the library, 

“Hey Sam, dinner,” Dean called out and shoved aside some of the books to lay the plate on the table. He saw movement from the corner of his eye and realized two beats too late that Sam had been standing on the other side of the books he had just shoved. He moved quickly but was too late to grab him before Sam tumbled off the table. 

“Shit!” Dean fell to his knees, looking for Sam and for one long, heart-stopping moment could not see him, before he spotted him on his back, right by one of the table legs. Hand only trembling slightly, Dean reached down to pick him up. “I’m sorry Sammy, I didn’t see you there. Are you hurt?”

“Just winded I think.” Sam’s voice sounded so small and Dean felt the familiar pang of guilt rise in him.“We need to fix this.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, the sandwich forgotten. “Tell me where to start.”

It turned out; Sam had no real clue. He suggested some books to look through, the kind of ancient books in foreign languages that Dean could only read a word or two of and Sam had to stand on the pages to read. It was slow going. Most of the mentions they found about turning people miniature involved complex magic that didn’t seem to mesh with the fine dust that had fallen over Sam. 

Dean yawned as he shut one book and opened another dusty, moldy volume that had a gory depiction of a werewolf, blood dripping from his mouth, howling at the moon. Nice. “You getting anywhere?” he asked Sam, who was sitting on a page, tiny fingers running under the lines of text just like his gigantic fingers normally did.

Sam shook his head and kept reading. Dean yawned again, opened the book, and pushed it back, laid his chin in his hands as he leaned over the table and began pouring through the….

There was a loud shrill sound from somewhere and something pulling on his sleeve. “I’m up,” Dean said, shaking his sleeve before his mind clicked on with the awareness that it was Sam. He sat up quickly, suddenly wide awake but Sam was fine, still small, but he hadn’t accidentally flung him around the room. Again.

The noise continued and Dean finally caught on that it was his phone. He pulled it out, eyes straining to focus on the name of the caller. “Jody,” he said to Sam as he answered.

“Hey Dean, sorry I missed your call earlier. Got a bit of a situation here, thought maybe you could grab your brother and come help out.”

“So, we are just skipping pleasantries now?” Dean asked with a yawn, watching as Sam carefully climbed over several books to return to the one he must have been reading.

“When the people I am supposed to protect are being drained by a smoke monster? Yes. How soon can you guys get here?”

“Smoke monster?” Dean asked, watched as Sam turned to him. “Like on _Lost_?”

“Like, I don’t know. I’ve done some research, asked around and no one knows what it is. I got the attack on video. I’ll send it to Sam’s email. Just get here okay?”

Dean thought about explaining they had bigger (or rather smaller) problems of their own, but neither of them were going to let people die, no matter what was going on with them.

Sam made his way back to the laptop as Dean woke it up (there was probably some more technical term, but Dean liked to keep his computer interactions simple, he touched the keyboard, things happened), and opened up Sam’s email by typing in his password. He heard Sam hiss and remembered he wasn’t supposed to know it. He shrugged at Sam. “I would say I’m sorry but –”

Sam huffed and then sat in front of the laptop as Dean found and opened up the video. 

It was grainy, choppy, looked like the camera was perched in the corner of a gas station. A customer was at the cash register. The clerk, who looked to be a heavy-set man in maybe his forties wearing a baseball hat and sloppy clothes, followed the customer to the door, disappeared out of camera range for a few moments, and then reappeared. He appeared to be cashing out the register, closing shop.

Then something began to form to the left of the screen, swirling black and purple, wispy like a cloud. It moved with purpose and was upon the man before he spotted it. There was no audio, but before the man was totally encompassed by the smoke cloud, his mouth was open as if screaming. When the smoke lifted, the man was motionless, as flat as a pancake.

The video went dark.

“Did you watch it?” Dean startled; he had forgotten Jody was on the phone with him.

“Yeah, that was – different.” Dean looked down at Sam. “Some kind of demon?” he asked.

Sam shrugged. He was beginning to pace, tiny fingers on his chin. 

“When they found him, the man was just a hollowed-out shell, weighed maybe forty pounds, all his insides were just gone, like someone had stuck a vacuum cleaner down his throat and whooshed everything out.”

“Sam and I will try to figure out something and let you know,” Dean assured her. “I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“That’s fine, but you guys are going to head my way, right? Whatever this is, I don’t know that I am equipped to handle it. I’m not about to let any more of my people die.”

Sam was climbing up Dean’s arm which was both distracting and more than a bit amusing. He obviously had heard Jody and was shaking his head yes to going out there. “Okay, yeah, I’ll text you when we leave and let you know what we figured it out.”

“You do that,” Jody replied. “And thanks Dean for coming through again, you and Sam – you are good people.”

Dean smiled as he hung up the phone, he could feel the excitement of a hunt beginning to build. The research part, yeah not a lot of fun but that was what his nerdy brother lived for. It was the rush of the chase that got Dean fired up, creating a picture out of fragments, the moment they were facing their prey – they were an unstoppable team, even if one of them was the size of a thimble.

Sam had made it to his shoulder and directed Dean to the bookshelf where there were more dusty old books with words in languages Dean had no clue of written on their bindings. He stayed on Dean’s shoulder as he directed Dean which ones to pull out. “Okay Jiminy, any other books while I am standing here?” Dean asked.

“Just take me back to the table. I think I might have an idea what we are dealing with.”

It took a few books, several exasperated sighs from Sam when Dean didn’t follow direction fast enough, and maybe a frustrated curse or two from Dean before they found what Sam was looking for.

Dean read the words above where Sam was standing, Sam was hunched over the text reading it as well. “An Enenra huh? Never heard of it. How do we kill it?” Dean asked.

Dean had to bend over to hear Sam. “I think Ruby’s knife will do the trick, but we will have to trap it first. It will be impossible to kill in smoke form.”

“So, it is some form of demon then?” Dean asked. “Should be easy to trap.”

“There is one small problem…” 

None of their problems were ever small. “What a surprise. Hit me.”

“It has to be killed by someone pure of heart.” 

Dean started to chuckle, then realized Sam was being serious. Of course he was, it was Sam. 

“Pure of heart? Flowery phrase for virgin?”

Sam shook his head. “Virgins aren’t necessary pure of heart; sex doesn’t make you pure or impure.”

“Well, that still leaves the two fo us out.” Dean stood up, grabbed the books, and picked up Sam by his shirt collar. Sam was squirming, little legs kicking, He placed Sam back on his shoulder. “Hopefully by the time we get back, Cas and Jack will have returned, and they’ll figure out how to turn Tiny Tim back into the Jolly Green, but don’t worry little brother, I’ll keep you safe until then.”

“I am so going to kick your ass when I’m back to my usual size,” Sam hissed in his ear. 

Dean chortled. “Yeah, you can try.”

It took just a matter of moments to pack his bag, there was nothing to pack for Sam who was too tiny for any clothes they had in the bunker and not able to handle weapons of any kind. If Dean thought he could get by with it, he would have left Sam in the bunker where he would be safe. But Sam was Sam and no way he was staying behind, so Dean carefully placed him in the passenger seat of Baby and they headed off.

It was a weird trip, Dean had to force himself to keep his eyes on the road and not to keep checking to make sure Sam was still there, still okay. No bitching from Sam about the music or the junk food Dean grabbed from the gas station they stopped at. He sat on the seat, looking tinier than ever, and munched on the chips that Dean had given him that were almost as big as he was.

Sam was curled up in the seat, fast asleep when they pulled into Jody’s odriveway. Dean’s heart did a funny lurch thing when he saw Sam, so small and vulnerable, like he hadn’t been since he had learned how to protect himself and how to wield his smarts like a weapon. He carefully picked him up, and carried Sam in one hand, leaving his bag behind as he knocked on Jody’s door.

It was early morning, but Jody still opened the door immediately. She grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug, before patting his shoulder and letting him go. “Where’s Sam?”

Suddenly Dean realized he was going to have to explain tiny Sam. He stalled. “Did you look into what we sent you?”

Jody looked outside, clearly puzzled, and then shut the door. In Dean’s hand, Sam was beginning to wake, Jody’s eyes found Sam and they widened in surprise.

Jody looked from Sam to Dean and back to Sam again. “What the hell did you do Dean?”

Dean huffed as he walked inside. “What makes you think this was my fault?”

“Women’s intuition?” Jody asked, shutting, and locking her front door. “Experience? The expression on Sam’s face? Pick one or three.”

Dean carefully placed Sam on the couch. Sam indeed was looking up at him with one of his patent bitch faces. 

Dean fidgeted. Jody folded her arms across her chest. Sam did the same, but there was a slight tick up at the corner of his mouth which indicated that Sam was having a lot of fun watching Dean’s discomfort. Such a brat, but also, fair.

“Don’t we have a monster to gank?” Dean asked, which was definitely not a ploy to stall for time because they really did come here about a monster.

“Yes,” Jody replied. “But I think we have enough time for you to explain what the hell you did to your brother.”

Dean sighed, wished for a beer but settled for parking his ass on the arm of the couch and began…

“And now we are here,” Dean finished. “And really, not my fault at all I have to point out. What kind of idiots keep something like that just lying around?”

“Can we fix him?” Jody asked, kneeling in front of Sam who had added unneeded commentary throughout Dean’s explanation. “Though I got to say, he looks awful cute like this.”

Dean laughed. “And now he’s my little brother again. Like my little, tiny, itty bitty brother.”

Jody laughed. Sam glared. 

“Cas and Jack should be able to fix him up when they get back,” Dean said when the wave of amusement had ebbed. “Until then we are going to have to keep our eye on him, poor wee thing.”

“You both are enjoying this way too much,” Sam chimed in with his tiny high-pitched voice which sent Jody and Dean into giggles again.

Dean took pity on his annoyed brother. “Okay, we really do need to get this thing before it hurts anyone else. Did you get what we sent you?”

“Yeah. Pure of heart huh? Well I haven’t been exactly pure in a while but hopefully that’s not the kind of pure required,” Jody joked. “It struck again at the high school gym, janitor, he’s a big guy but wouldn’t hurt a flea. It got him circled good but got interrupted by a kid who forgot his backpack. Took 20 pounds off of him, spleen is just gone, kidneys a bit of a mess but he should be okay.”

“Sounds like the high school is a good place to start, lots of places for him to hide and plenty of kids for him to snack on,” Dean said. “And he didn’t get his meal, so he’ll be searching for a replacement. Let’s just hope he doesn’t mistake Sam here for an appetizer.”

“You are nowhere near as funny as you think you are,” Sam said as Dean held out his hand to him.

“Yeah I am,” Dean replied as Sam crawled up into his hand.

A few minutes later, they were on their way to the high school. Jody drove, with Dean in the passenger seat and Sam playing Jiminy Cricket again.

Sam pulled Dean’s hair. “Son of a –” Dean exclaimed and plucked Sam from his shoulder. “What?”

“There.” Came the high voice that would never stop amusing Dean. “Over there.”

It was the entrance to the school, the last wisps of the black and purple smoke seeping inside, the door was glass and they could see it reforming on the other side.

“Okay, this is the plan,” Dean said. “I’ll draw a trap by the door. Jody, try to draw him my way. Once we get him in the trap, he’ll have to materialize and then Jody can stab him. If you aren’t pure enough, we may have to grab one of the high school kids.”

“A pure high school kid?” Jody remarked, as she parked the car. “It has been a long time since you’ve been in high school.”

“Not that long,” Dean mumbled. “Anyway, just give me a few minutes and send it my way.”

“You want me to take him?” Jody asked, indicating Sam as she pushed on the door to the school. It was not locked; they made their way inside. No lights were on, the school was eerily quiet.

“No, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Dean responded, instinctively holding Sam closer to his chest. 

“All right then. See you boys in a bit.”

Dean placed Sam down and quickly sprayed the Devil’s Trap on the polished floor of the school. Sam wandered around it, critiquing it, and making snide comments and if Dean accidentally sprayed him just a tiny bit, well he should have been quicker. At least he made sure not to get any paint anywhere near Sam’s face,

There was a racket down the hallway, a high-pitched scream definitely not from Jody and then Jody scurrying toward them. “It’s got the assistant principal trapped in her office. The door locks from the inside, I can’t get it open. Hurry, I can hear it – like making sucking sounds.” Jody shuddered and Dean ran after her.

The door was indeed locked and apparently the woman – Gloria according to her name plate – couldn’t reach the door. It was a heavy solid door and Dean was getting ready to try to kick the damn thing open when Sam scurried under his legs, and then right under the door, having to lie flat on his stomach and crawl under to manage it.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean swore and then kicked the door twice which had no effect other than hurting his damn foot. He could hear a scuffle, more screams, and the black and purple smoke was seeping under the door and beginning to reform. “Sam!” Dean yelled and it was the woman who yelled something back that Dean could not quite make out. He was going to have to get rid of this thing and then hack the damn door down if needed.

But right now, there was a monster to kill. Dean tossed Jody Ruby’s knife and motioned for her to crouch down where she was. He maneuvered himself in front of the monster. “Hungry?” Dean asked and held out his arms wide. “I’m quite the tasty treat, or so I’ve been told.” He winked and then turned around and ran, he could hear the swishing sound of being followed, the roar when the thing was trapped.

Dean carefully stepped around the Devil’s Trap to join Jody. He was itchy to get back to Sam, but he had to know this thing was contained. The smoke was taking shape as it twisted and hissed, black and purple sparks hitting dangerously close to the edges of the trap.

When it took shape, it was almost human looking but not quite. It had some features of a man, eyes and mouth, arms and a torso, and the horns and fur of a buffalo-like creature with two hairy legs complete with claws. 

“Fuck, you are ugly,” Dean declared. Its beady eyes narrowed, and sharp teeth snapped.

The creature was speaking, something guttural and ancient but Dean had no time for its shit. He stood behind Jody, walking with her to the edge of the circle, keeping her close so he could pull her away quickly. He had to hand it to her, her hand was not shaking, and she did not hesitate as she stabbed the creature in the chest with the knife. “Enjoy your trip back to Hell,” Jody snarled as Dean pulled her back.

The creature roared, smoke exploding from its enormous mouth, but he did not die.

“Fuck, I knew my college experiments would come back and bite me someday.” Dean looked at her, a bit nonplussed. “What? You think only boys get to sow wild oats?”

The knife was plucked out of Jody’s hand by a familiar large hand. “I think you have one of the biggest, best hearts of anyone I’ve ever met, no matter how misspent your youth,” Sam said to her. Gigantic again, whole, Sam wearing paint-splattered clothes and a bright smile. “But I’m betting on my brother to be able to kill this thing.”

“How?” Dean asked, waving a hand up and down, indicating Sam’s body. Further down the hallway he spotted a woman sitting in a chair, head in her hands.

“Not important,” Sam replied, “We need to kill this thing before we attract attention, and someone accidentally breaks the Devil’s Trap.” Sam handed the knife to Dean.

Dean scoffed. “Me? Do you need a recap of my sins?”

“No, I know who you are,” Sam replied. The monster was watching them warily, eyeing the knife in Dean’s hand. Sam patted Dean on the shoulder and then circled around the trap. Dean didn’t have to be told Sam was distracting the Enenra so Dean could get close enough to strike, he knew exactly what Sam was doing. “My brother was right about how ugly you are. Getting pretty hungry now aren’t you? Bet you wish you could reach me huh, you could feast on me for days.”

Dean took a moment to wallow in relief that Sam was back to Sam then gripped the knife and stepped right into the Devil’s Trap. The creature turned and Dean plunged the knife in as far as it could go, and then Sam was grabbing his arms, pulling him back out.

The creature roared, and smoke poured from him, dancing around him. His features began to shift until he was back to being smoke again. The smoke hovered for just a moment then burst into flames and disintegrated. Ruby’s knife clattered to the floor.

“Huh,” Dean said, picking the knife up, feeling the high of a successful hunt kicking in. “Looks like I’m pure of heart after all. Should come with a reward like being sainted or free beer for life.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I might have misread, come to think about it. It may have said the Enenra could only be killed by a person who is lame of heart.”

“Like we don’t know who that fits already. Come here.” Dean pulled Sam into a hug. “Glad to have you back man all eighteen feet of you.” He held on tight for a moment, felt his brother clutch into him before breaking away. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Jody took care of Gloria, then insisted on cooking them lunch, homemade BBQ, fried potatoes, and squash with peach pie for dessert that was so good even Sam got seconds.

They were on the way back to the bunker when Dean looked side eyed at Sam and said. “So, spill.” 

Sam tried to look innocent, and as usual, failed miserably. “I guess the spell just wore off.”

Dean made a buzzer noise. “Try again.”

Sam began to pick at the imaginary lint on his pants, clear indication that he was feeling guilty. “The important thing is that it all worked out in the end.”

Another buzzer, Dean was rather proud at how realistic it sounded.

Sam sighed. “It turns out, this was just a trick spell, one that the Men of Letters played on newbies. Who knew they had a sense of humor? They would tell the new recruits not to touch anything, put the box somewhere that the newbie would easily find it, and let them shrink themselves. The counter spell was actually just a few Greek words, nothing to it.”

“And you knew this all along and let me twist in the wind?” Dean asked, although a tiny bit of admiration for Sam’s sneakiness was welling inside him.

“Not all along. I found out while you were sleeping and then – well, the thought of you having to explain everything to Jody was amusing, and it gave you something besides Cas and Jack to worry about, and so...”

“You little shit,” Dean said. “You were just having yourself a little fun at my expense.”

“Well technically it was your fault, I told you to leave the box alone.” Sam straightened his shoulders. “It feels good to be me again, but it was kinda fun to be something else for a change, being able to climb up on your shoulder and everything to be so big. And I was able to rescue Gloria, so that was something good that came out of it.”

“Actually, if we are being technical, I am responsible for the rescue of Gloria since it was my – incident – that made you small.”

“You just keep telling yourself that.” Sam replied, an amused grin on his face.

“I still can’t believe you did this to me.”

“It was fun. You remember fun right Dean? If not, I have a few books you can –”

“I hate you.”

“I know,” Sam replied. “Speaking of fun, as it turns out there is a campground near a lake not far away from here.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You don’t want to get back to the bunker?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe a little break would be good for both of us. When Cas and Jack return, they will be able to find us no matter where we are. After that – who knows what is going to happen, where we will end up. So, taking this moment, relaxing, not actually a bad idea.”

“It was my idea,” Dean pointed out, but he was already thinking about the sun on his back, maybe taking a dip in the cool waters of a lake. 

“I borrowed some fishing poles and camping gear from Jody while you were primping in the bathroom.:They’re in the trunk,” Sam continued. 

“I don’t –” Dean began and then shook his head. “Whatever, Disney princess hair guy.”

Sam didn’t give the expected retort, just leaned back in his seat, and smiled.

One day soon, they were going to have to face Chuck, deal with one last end of the world disaster. But that was another day and if his little brother wanted to have some fun today, it was Dean’s duty to help him with that. “Okay little brother, how do we get to this lake?”


End file.
